Glory: Sidestories
by Eiruiel
Summary: The tales and anecdotes that Suzu's book could never capture. A supplement to Glory. / In the absence of Tsubasa, Kyouya reflects.
1. Suzu: Lantern Light

**Published: 11/4/2014**

**Edited: 12/23/2014**

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**7: Lantern Light**

When Obon comes around, the House has one of the biggest altars to be seen. It's to be expected, of course, because as a home for orphans everyone was guaranteed to have lost their parents. We put it in the sitting room, where piles of fruit and other offerings cover every free inch of the altar and its surrounding area. A little army of cucumber-horses and eggplant-cows sit lined up between the two lanterns, in front of the long, long rows of memorial tablets listing off the names of our many dead parents.

Perhaps it's because of that that half of the Namikaze compound gathers in front of the House on the first evening of Obon before heading out to the cemetery. Long before our caretakers have managed to distribute lanterns to each of the kids—neverminding the ones they had to carry for the babies, who were obviously incapable of doing it themselves—a crowd of people is already assembled and ready to go. I never really could decide whether their intent was to show us their solidarity by accompanying us or if they just wanted to watch the children toddle in ranks down to the clan burying grounds. Even I find our processions quite a sight, and I'm actually in them.

"Alright, everyone," Auntie Reiko calls over the bustle of the clan. Just about every Namikaze currently in the village has been crammed into this plot of land, this tiny space that holds the bones and ashes of our ancestors. Long, vertical headstones rise up into the air all around us, like topless tree trunks in a stone forest. "Do you remember where to go?"

The older kids drift off in the directions of their parents' graves, having come and gone through this routine before. Minato and Shiori head toward the west end of the cemetery, shoulder-to-shoulder, and of my agemates, Chiharu, Jinta, and Akira all run off together, racing to get to the corner where their progenitors' remains have been clustered together. The adults take the hands of the toddlers and guide them deeper into cement thicket, fingers pointing in their intended directions in the same way compass needles always spin north.

Instead of going off to locate my own parents, I stand at the entrance, watching them go. Their lanterns dip and bob in rhythm with their steps, swaying gently left and right, before fading and vanishing into the darkness. Soon the people around me disperse, and I am left standing alone, watching the undulating waves of a flickering ocean of light pulse up and down and back and forward and side to side and—

"What are your parents' names, little one?" An old man crouches down next to me. His skin sags on his face, clinging to his cheekbones like flimsy wet paper towels hanging from a counter's edge. He is covered in brown, splotchy age spots, and when I see the wrinkles radiating out from around his sunken blue eyes I cannot help but think they look like drooping petals on a slumping daisy. His lips are chapped and his knobby fingers could be twigs on a gnarled tree branch, but his hands do not shake no matter how frail and feeble they appear.

"Yasunari and Kazue," I say. I know exactly where they are buried—on the fourth plot in the sixth row—but I let him take my hand and we hobble together down the thin dirt path leading to them. We move at ninety-degree angles, weaving through the blocks in the grid that is our family's tiny necropolis, before finally arriving at a stout little memorial tablet.

As I stare at those two names engraved into the cold rock's face, Yasunari and Kazue, I wonder what I am supposed to feel today, here on the first night of Obon. Excitement? Most of my cousins certainly are, for Obon means food and games and dancing. Or maybe I should be pensive—Minato's gaze has been wandering in distant lands for most of the evening. Perhaps even sad. Auntie Reiko and Uncle Souhei were certainly looking wistful. They probably have more dead people than living to lead back home tonight, because even if they are retired now, it's hard to forget they're ninjas.

"Let's welcome your mother and father," my elderly escort murmurs. "They'll be glad to see their little daughter."

I look down at the flame flickering in my floral-printed lantern without saying a word.

* * *

With my hair pulled up into a bun on the right side of my head, adorned with pink and red flowers and dangling strings of beads, Uncle Souhei presses three hundred-ryo coins into my hands and tells me to have fun. Beside me, Jinta and Akira shout in delight and dash toward the door. Their wooden sandals clack loudly as they cross the porch and run down into the dusty streets.

I don't follow them. Instead, I go and stand in front of the enormous butsudan and look at my parents' ihai with a critical eye, lips pursed. Supposedly they are here with me right now, visiting their only child, but the air around me feels empty, if a bit humid.

"You look very pretty today, imouto-chan," a young woman tells me, appearing at my left. Normally I would be alarmed to have such a stranger materialize in my house, but it is Obon, and the door is wide open. No one would bother to wander a compound not their own on a day like this.

"Thank you," I reply, looking down at the fat pink flowers stitched into my bright red sleeves. Typical cherry blossoms.

"Did you tell your mom and dad hello?" she inquires, leaning forward and bracing her hands on her knees. "You should tell them about how you've been."

"They're not here," I say before I can help myself; I frown, resisting the urge to let my chin jut out.

"Why, sweetie, of course they're here," she exclaims, surprised.

"I can't feel them."

"But that doesn't mean they aren't about! They only get a chance to see you once a year, you know. I don't think they would miss it."

"How do you know?" I ask, more sharply than I intend. But she is not deterred.

"Because they're your family," she replies softly. "And family will always come. It doesn't matter what you've done or even who you are—everyone has a family and everyone knows how precious that is. This is the one time of year when people can reunite with them, both dead and alive. Your parents, they're not any different."

That means nothing, I want to argue. There's no _proof_, I want to say. But then the air is still and the sound of drums picks up in the distance. I look through the window and see our kinsmen running past, wide grins on their faces.

"Let's go dance," my nameless older sister says with a smile.

* * *

**A/N: Because between the chapters of Suzu's childhood, there were times when she looked at the foreign culture she'd landed in and felt that she didn't belong.**


	2. Akihiko: Purgatory

**Published: 8/10/2014**

**Edited: 1/12/2015**

* * *

**Akihiko: Purgatory**

"Hey, senpai."

Kamoku is able to catch the scroll thrown at him and identify its origin—his subordinate Akito—without ever looking up from his reading. After he finishes the paragraph he is on he sets down his book and glances at the file in his hand.

"The new guy's report?" he asks quizzically, unrolling it and giving it a once over, briefly scanning through some general background before reading his current evaluation. "Seems like he's doing fine."

"They want you to run his last test," the cat-masked ANBU in the doorway shrugs. "I'm kind of inclined to agree. That sort of thing isn't my specialty, if you what I mean."

Kamoku smiles dryly. So he is needed his specialty, is he? That doesn't bode too well for the recruit, but Kamoku isn't going to argue. If they want him to take a crack a breaking the new guy, well, that is his job.

"I've been meaning to take a look at him in person," Kamoku says with a shrug, re-rolling the scroll as he stands and reaches for his mask. "As soon as I heard we had a kid coming in I was interested."

"I left him out on the training field," Akito replies. "He's waiting at the north end."

"Then I'll get on it." Kamoku nods; Akito leaves with a wave. His squad leader puts on his mask before zipping away in a shunshin, crossing ANBU Base 1 in a matter of seconds; when he comes to a stop outside on the training field, there is a little boy standing in front of him, dressed head to toe in black. Kamoku can tell his hair has recently been cut; each time the wind blows, he blinks as though expecting bangs to brush over his eyes.

"Namikaze Akihiko," Kamoku intones, tossing his scroll in the air, catching it, and sliding it into his belt pouch in two fluid motions. He eyes the boy critically. "Last test. Show me what you can do."

Kamoku technically doesn't need to see Namikaze jump through advanced kata and show off his athletic ability—the others have already evaluated his skill level—but he wants to observe the new recruit up close. He scrutinizes him closely, taking in every punch and kick and grunt and analyzing it, quietly fitting pieces of a puzzle together until he has put together a picture he is satisfied with.

"Enough." Kamoku waves a hand. Namikaze halts and returns to his place in front of the monkey-masked ANBU, standing attentively. Kamoku folds his arms and regards the boy coolly.

"What are you running from?" he asks. Namikaze blinks once, twice—

"I don't follow, sir," he says, smoothing the puzzlement off of his face. Kamoku snorts.

"Yeah, I bet. Give me two-hundred high kicks," he orders. Namikaze blinks again at the non-sequitur demand before smothering a look of irritation and turning to the post behind him. He sinks into a taijutsu stance and executes a flawless high kick, torso twisting easily, arms and legs moving in perfect unity. Kamoku saunters forward.

"When kids dream of being ninja," he begins, circling the boy, "they don't dream of ANBU. No one sees us enough to aspire to it."

Namikaze says nothing, focusing on his task.

"No one comes here unprompted," Kamoku murmurs, uncrossing his arms and leaning on another post, staring intently into Namikaze's blank face. "Your family holds you to no particular expectation and you have no obvious motivation for being here. No one has forced you here; you have come on your own without being requested. And if you have come on your own, without the need to impress anyone or fulfill someone's wishes, you are the one who needs be here. Conclusion: You are running."

Namikaze lets out a grunt; the post splinters with a crunch. Kamoku cocks his head to the side. Well. It seems the new guy has a temper.

"You have nothing to say?" Kamoku prods, intent on figuring out how far Namikaze can be pushed. "You're not going to deny it?"

Grunt, kick.

"So you are admitting to running away?"

Grunt, kick, crunch.

"We don't accept cowards, you know," Kamoku informs lightly, affecting aloofness and adjusting his gauntlets. "Guess we'll just have to send you back."

The fear in the boy's face is so quickly replaced with fury that Kamoku almost misses it—almost. The training post receives a strike so vicious it shatters, sending slivers of wood flying. Several of them lodge themselves in Namikaze's calf.

"Your poor form is confirmation enough," Kamoku shrugs as the blond lets out a hiss, shifting onto one foot—perfect balance, hm—as he pulls his leg up to examine the damage. "You might as well just tell me. Why are you here?"

"There's nothing for me in the General Forces," Namikaze bites out, planting both feet back onto the ground with a glare. "I can get better here and I can do it faster. That's reason enough."

Kamoku raises an eyebrow even though he knows the boy can't see it.

"Is that so?" he asks, contemplating briefly what angle to work him from before settling on the wound he knows is still raw and bleeding. "And Misuzu? Now that your teammate Yoshiya's gone she's your only friend."

Just as Kamoku predicts, the brief flash of emotion that shoots across Namikaze's face is one of pulsing, festering pain. Yoshiya? Kamoku considers it with a hum. No… Misuzu. She'll serve his purpose much better. Cousin, teammate, and friend… she is perfect. Not to mention she is still alive—there are so many more approaches to take when the exploit isn't dead.

Namikaze snarls, trying to let his fury mask his moment of vulnerability, but Kamoku has already latched onto his weakness. He is one of ANBU's best interrogators, after all. Only the T&amp;I specialists can beat him out when it comes to hitting where it hurts.

"She'll only hold me back," Namikaze declares boldly, but the waver in his voice precluded any pretense of credulity Kamoku might have entertained. The report read that they have recently come into conflict, but he knows for a fact no attachments are so easily severed. "She's nowhere near my skill level. I don't need her."

"But what if she needs you?" Kamoku asks blithely, bringing a hand up and pretending to examine his glove. "Recently field promoted, wasn't she? If you're right about her skill, she's in trouble."

He looks at Namikaze out of the corner of his eye; the boy frowns harshly but resolutely says nothing.

"Don't you think you should look after her?" the ANBU drawls, undeterred, as he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at the kid down his nose. "She won't be able to look after herself. Field promoted chuunin are always the first kind of chuunin to die, you know."

There it is. Namikaze's will begins to warp—Kamoku sees in the way that his shoulders hunch and his gaze turns downward. Breaking point already? The monkey-masked ANBU is a bit disappointed. What a shame. He had had so much potential.

But then, slowly, Namikaze's head begins to rise. Intrigued, Kamoku watches as the swirling storm of confliction in the boy's eyes recedes. Cold, emotionless determination takes its place.

"That's her problem," he says, hands fisted but face admirably clear of any emotion.

Kamoku regards the boy carefully, feeling a vague sense of surprised delight trickle over himself. He gives a very, very small twitch of the lips.

"That's cold," he says, allowing a sharp smirk to settle on his face as he slides his mask off. Blue eyes meet brown; Namikaze's chin jutts stubbornly.

"That's life," he retorts, arms crossing. Kamoku laughs cynically. Is that bravado? That is interesting.

"Careful, little boy," he warns with a dark smile. "You think you can handle that kind of talk? Greater men than you have broken over those words, and no one here is going to hold your hand and ask you what's wrong when you're suffering alone in silence."

"Then that's my problem," Namikaze coolly replies, gaze frigid. Kamoku beats back a grin of satisfaction, opting instead to stare the boy down with every ounce of intimidation he can muster. A short silence falls over them, the younger glaring defiantly up at the older. Kamoku draws back a bit, mind turning as he forms his judgement.

"…You'll go far here, kid," he finally says, nodding once and smiling at him ever so faintly. "I look forward to working with you… Rengoku."


	3. Suzu: Summer Shenanigans

**Published: 3/3/2015**

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**Suzu: Summer Shenanigans**

"This is interesting," Kakashi says. From him, this means a lot, so I scoot over to his end of the couch to see what he's looking at.

"A photo album?" I smile when I see the blue cover. "Did you find something?"

Given the amount of children to have passed through this household, there are far too many pictures for any of us except perhaps Auntie to be completely familiar with. I look curiously at the photo in the top right corner, which he seems to be fixed on. A young girl in a sundress is smiling over her shoulder, a matching hat with a long pink ribbon on her head. Long blond hair swishes at her waist, blowing in a light spring breeze.

"Oh, I know this one," I say in recognition, blinking with surprise. What were the odds of him picking _that_ one, of all pictures?

"Your face hasn't changed as much as I would have expected," he tells me, head tilted as he examines the photograph. "I didn't know you wore these kinds of outfits."

"Well, it's kind of fun to dress up like that on occasion, since kunoichi don't get the chance to look pretty when they're working a lot," I reply. "Auntie likes to take us shopping for dresses every now and then, if there's money. My mom really liked this kind of style—apparently this was one of her favorite pictures, even when she had gotten older."

Kakashi goes rigid. Single eye wide, he turns his head slowly to look at me.

"Oh, it's Kazue!" Auntie Reiko exclaims, delighted, as she drops in out of nowhere behind us. "I remember taking this picture. We were so young back then… She was the prettiest girl of our generation, so I was always jealous." She grins and lifts the album from our laps, flipping it around and holding it up next to my head. "Don't they look completely identical?" she asks my teammate cheerfully. "Suzu is beautiful just like this when she bothers to clean up, you know."

I roll my eyes as Kakashi gapes at us with his jaw hanging. "It's not a ninja's job to be pretty, you know," I point out. "Dirt is unavoidable in this profession."

"Don't be like that," Auntie chides, cuffing me on the ear. "Kazue was lovely and graceful even on the battlefield. If only she'd passed the disposition on to you!"

"Want us to change?" Chiharu asks, popping her head over the stairwell. "We still haven't worn those outfits you got for us in the spring. We could put on a fashion show for Kakashi-san," she adds, grinning impishly.

"I—" Kakashi immediately holds up his hands, but is prevented from speaking as a small blur with blond pigtails shoots past us and up the stairs. Auntie bursts out laughing.

"I think Haruka means dress up and seduce you, Kakashi-kun," she teases him, poking his shoulder. "My, she's really taken to you. I thought she'd lose interest a week or so after declaring her intentions, but she's really kept at it!"

Kakashi looks like he wants to crawl under a rock and die. Well, I muse, I would probably be the same if my teammate's baby cousin proposed marriage to me.

"I'll go change then," I offer, standing up to spare him a few minutes of embarrassment in my presence.

"Wait, don't—" Kakashi protests, flustered.

"OOH! Hairdressing time!" Heiwako interrupts, throwing her arms over my shoulders. "Good! I've been meaning to get my hands on your hair, Suzu—look at how long it's gotten, there's so much I can do with it now…"

"Don't try fighting it, Kakashi-kun," I hear Uncle Souhei advise as my cousin pushes me up the stairs. "You'll find the women of this household are a force best left unopposed."

* * *

Twenty minutes later sees a parade of giggling orphan girls descending the stairs, ribbons in their hair and skirts swishing at their knees. I'm honestly pretty happy to play along—back in my old life, I'd never really done this sort of thing, despite the fact that it suited my secret vanity very well. I may or may not have given a few extra twirls on the way down.

Jin catcalls, grinning mischievously, and earns a smack on the back of his head for his troubles. Akira and Tenrou immediately crack up laughing.

"Am I pretty, 'Kashi-niichan?" Haruka asks, immediately bouncing over to Kakashi and dropping a little curtsy, lifting the ends of her blue skirt. For someone with only a quarter of his face exposed, I observe, Kakashi can put on an impressive blush.

"You are very pretty, sweetheart," Uncle Souhei murmurs when Haruka begins to sniffle at the lack of response, lifting her up and setting her chin on his shoulder. He meets Kakashi's eye and gives him a wry smile.

"How about the rest of us?" Chiharu demands, hands on her hips. She spins around and strikes and expectant pose.

"Gorgeous," our uncle replies, deadpan. Auntie Reiko smacks his arm before looking over the group of us and smiling.

"You're all so beautiful," she sighs, making us beam. "You almost make me think your mother's alive, Suzu," she adds wistfully, giving me a longing look.

"Does that make me the most beautiful of all, then?" I ask innocently, to the protest of my sisters. "You _did _say she was the prettiest of your generation."

"I did, didn't I?" Auntie laughs. "Oh, I despised her when we were children. She was my love rival, you know."

"She was _not_." Uncle immediately scowls. "I _told _you, I never liked Kazue. I only talked to her because she was Yasu's best friend."

"Sorry, Kakashi," I say as the room descends into noisy bickering. "We're all pretty rambunctious, I suppose. Don't mind the teasing. They do it all the time."

"I know," Kakashi sighs, putting his palms on his face. For a moment, we both stand in silence. Then he mumbles something through his hands.

"Pardon me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. He jerks his head away, crossing his arms. I wait patiently, giving him my best and most unnerving stare.

"...You look nice," he finally mutters, sour.

I laugh. "Thanks, Kakashi."

"Suzu and Kakashi, sitting in a tree!" Jin suddenly crows over the noise. "K-I-S-S-I—"

"Shut up, Jinta!" A slipper goes flying for his head. Things only degenerate from there, and soon the boys are wrestling on the floor, with Chiharu charging in with one of the couch pillows and beating them over the backs of their heads.

"—I _told _you, it was White Day, and she gave me chocolate the month before," Uncle Souhei argued. "I couldn't very well _not _repay her—"

"It's your fault for accepting chocolate from her in the first place!" Auntie Reiko accused. "What kind of excuse—"

"This place is pure chaos," Kakashi groans, slumping.

"Isn't it?" I agree, unable to keep the warm smile from my face.

* * *

**A/N: White Day, for those of you who don't know, is one month after Valentine's Day, where the men give gifts to the girls who gave them chocolate.**

**Anyway, thought we could use something light-hearted, so I just slapped this together and threw it up. It came to me as I was writing the next (21st) chapter, so you'll probably get more context for its time window soon.**

**Enjoy your Kakasuzu ship tease. **


	4. Akihiko: Reticence

**Published: 4/13/2015**

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**Akihiko: Reticence**

"Taicho! Taicho!"

Akihiko blinks blearily and looks up from his spot on the couch, sitting up and wrestling his blanket aside. As the door-banging continues, Kamoku stomps past irately, looking supremely pissed in his sleep-crumpled t-shirt-and-boxer-shorts ensemble.

"What the fuck do you want, asshat?" the brown-haired man spits as he yanks open the door, leaking killing intent like an open faucet. Akihiko has the vague thought that if he ever believed seeing an ANBU captain in his underwear would make him any less scary, he believes no more.

"Taicho—" Akito's face is grim as he braces himself against his unit captain's rage.

"I have to leave on a mission with the brat in three hours," Kamoku informs icily. "You're wasting the only sleep we're going to get for the next two days. Make it good or I'll make you regret it."

At this point, Akito would usually begin stuttering and waving his hands, but his steely gaze does not waver. Akihiko finds himself jumping off of the couch and scurrying to Kamoku's side.

"It's Kagerou," Akito says. Akihiko waits for the rest of the news, but nothing is forthcoming; apparently, this is all Kamoku needs, because he's off and down the hallway in a heartbeat, overflowing purpose in his every stride. Neither man protests when Akihiko darts after them.

They cross half of ANBU Base 1 before Kamoku finally stops and opens a door, bothering neither to knock or announce himself. Akihiko feels a small swelling of admiration at the man's unflinching boldness and finds himself grinning ever so slightly.

Once he sees what's going on inside, though, the faint smile immediately wipes itself off his face. Kamoku comes to stop in the center of the room, where a black-haired man is sitting in seiza with a tanto pointed at his belly.

"What are you doing, Keisuke?" Kamoku asks calmly, bending his knees and settling into seiza as well, situating himself across from the man. Akihiko fights to keep the shock from his face; Kamoku _always _uses codenames on base, off-duty or not.

Akito puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a warning squeeze, saying in his iron grip what he would not speak aloud: _do not interrupt them_.

"What does it look like?" Kagerou asks darkly, looking up and fixing Kamoku with a glare that burns like a black sun. "You're not an idiot. Use your eyes."

"It looks to me like you're about to do something ridiculous," Kamoku snorts, lifting a hand off his knee and pointing to the dagger. "How stupid are you? You should know by now that the sharp end points out, not in."

Kagerou exhales sharply. "I'm not in the mood for your smartass comments, Yuuta."

"I'm not in the mood for your dumbass excuses," Kamoku retorts. "Be straight with me this time. What are you doing?"

"You don't need me to explain what seppuku is." Kagerou scowls venomously.

"No, by all means, please." His reply is a blithe wave of the hand. "Come, tell me all about it."

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to get something done here," Kagerou snarls, looking like he would dearly love to take the tanto he was about to disembowel himself with and shove it down Kamoku's throat instead. Kamoku cocks an eyebrow and crosses his arms.

"I'm not stopping you," he says. He adopts an expectant look, prompting Kagerou glower. "...Well? I'm waiting. Go on, if you want to die so badly, go and cut your stomach open. We don't need your sorry ass around here if you're going to take the coward's way out."

"Do you even know what seppuku _is_?" Kagerou almost throws his knife down. "I'm not doing this because I want to. I _have_ to."

Kamoku looks unimpressed. "I don't see anyone pointing a sword at your throat," he observes, making a show of inspecting the air around Kagerou's head. "Doesn't look like you're about to face capture, either. Not dying to keep information or anything."

"Shut _up_, Yuuta!" Kagerou does throw his tanto then, though it's at Kamoku's face rather than the floor. "Don't you _understand_?" he demands, standing even as Kamoku avoids it easily, lazily tilting his head to the left. "I've _failed_. They're dead. The mission failed and my squad is _dead. _I don't have a choice! If I don't do this and go on living like nothing happened, how can I ever lift my head again? The only honorable choice left is death!"

As Kagerou hovers over him, chest heaving, Kamoku calmly rises. After getting to his feet, he strolls across the room and goes to the wall where the dagger is wedged. Easily, he pries it out and returns it to Kagerou's hand.

"I never knew you liked playing samurai make-believe," he says lightly, brushing the front of his shirt off nonchalantly. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Rengoku," he suddenly addresses Akihiko, who jumps. "We've got work tomorrow. Let's go back to bed while we still can; _real _ninja don't have time to play around."

"Um, yes sir." Akihiko quickly inclines his head.

"Are you saying," Kagerou asks lowly as Kamoku makes to walk away, ignoring Akihiko rather completely, "that I am not a ninja? That I am not a shinobi of Konoha?"

"Ninjas don't entertain delusions of things like honor," Kamoku throws over his shoulder. He takes his tagalongs and turns them by the shoulders before shoving them out into the hallway. "They do their _jobs_. Whoever heard of something as stupid as a hoe breaking off its handle because it wants to make up for not ploughing the dirt?"

He shuts the door before Akihiko can catch Kagerou's answer.

* * *

As they depart a few hours later, they come across Akito sitting in the mess hall with a cold cup of tea, still in his nightclothes. He looks up when he sees the pattern on Kamoku's mask.

"You should get to bed," the ANBU captain tells his subordinate, who shrugs and swishes the liquid in his cup.

"We looked in on Kagerou a little after you left," Akito says in reply, ignoring his suggestion. "We brought him to the MedCenter… but it took a while before they decided to call it. I got out about an hour ago."

Kamoku goes silent, and after the moment of realization passes, Akihiko finds himself suddenly feeling agitated. He turns to his mentor and anxiously waits for his response. Somehow, he knows he will learn a valuable lesson about ANBU life in his reaction.

"...Let's go, Rengoku," Kamoku says, turning away.

* * *

**A/N: I'd say Akihiko's still eleven when this happens. Much before we see him in the Kyuubi attack, for sure.**

**Sorry to those of you who were looking forward to seeing more of Akihiko after his cameo in the hospital. It's gonna be a while before we really interact with him again. I've a lot of sidestories like these saved up to tide you over until we do, though.**


	5. Minato: Untitled

**Published: 5/28/2015**

* * *

"You've gone too far, Minato."

It is a solemn Jiraiya who speaks this line. Not goofy, not quirky, not strange—just serious. Minato looks away, reshuffling a stack of just-organized paperwork.

"I can understand that you wanted to make her sweat," Jiraiya continued, sitting cross-armed on his student's desk. "And it was within your bounds to suspend her. It was probably even a good idea—she needs to know her place in the pecking order. But it's been almost half a year, Minato. If she wasn't living on her clan's generosity, she would have starved to death by now. You've locked her in limbo; she can't take missions, but she can't secure another job with her contract as a chuunin."

Minato remains silent. He turns his swivel chair to the window.

"Your action has lost its efficacy," his mentor says. "She has become incapable of respecting your authority. You needed to show her you were a just and prudent leader, but now all she will be able to see when she looks at you is a controlling bully. Even if she disobeyed your orders, she was instrumental in thwarting Obito's attack; you have not only withheld any acknowledgement for her contributions, but you've punished her for it. She will not serve a man who rewards hard work and concern for the village with disproportionate censure."

The Hokage refuses to speak, and instead directs his attention to the sun setting in the red sky. Its dying rays have stained the whole of Konoha a dusky dark orange, coating the village—_his _village—with long shadows. Cherry blossoms are blowing in the wind, skittering across the ground and through the air at the whim of invisible fingers. On the rooftops, he can see racks of laundry gently flapping with the breeze.

Jiraiya sighs. "You've let your personal life get in the way of your duty, Minato," he informs. "You are chief commander of this village's military force and you have alienated one of your soldiers. She's getting ready to quit—we can all see it. Your little scarecrow brat has been up in arms, panicking to try and get her to stay, but you know that's not his job. It's _yours, _and you're failing."

Failing. As always, the notion of it sends a convulsive thrill of horror through Minato's very being, and his whole body tenses with a ruthlessly repressed shudder. He cannot let it come out, not even in the presence of Jiraiya-sensei. It never can.

"He almost killed her," he says softly instead. "He made her bleed."

Bleed from the _neck_.

"I saw," Jiraiya patiently replies. "She showed me. But either way, Minato, you've dug yourself into a hole. She hates you pretty soundly now. It was bad enough when she figured out you were faking with her, but I'm suspecting that this is going to be her final straw. You've wrecked your position both as her brother and as her commander."

Suzu. Suzu Namikaze, the best and the brightest of his little sisters. Quirky but clever, childish but mature, soft and naive but still sensible.

So many things have happened with her. He doesn't know what to think of her. There are so many things he doesn't know about her, and for a little while, he had wondered if he could even consider her a cousin anymore, let alone a sibling. But the need to protect his family had raged so furiously within him during that confrontation that he knows she can never be anything but the little girl who had hung onto his backside can called him _niichan_. The girl who had tugged on his hand and hidden behind his legs and called for him on the battlefield. The girl who had stutteringly blurted out _I love you! _in a mishmash of mangled words.

How can he possibly send her back out to fight the fight of shinobi?

"This is what you get for living so deceptively," Jiraiya tells him tiredly, massaging his forehead. "I have told you time and again that you only hurt yourself by keeping up this charade, and look at what's happened. You can't even manage your own life; how can you expect to manage all of ours?" He stands and shakes off his weariness so he can turn and fix his student with a look of cool steel. "Things need to change, Minato, before you tip everything into ruin."

Minato finally raises his head and looks his teacher in the eye. Jiraiya's gaze is flinty.

"_Now_," he says.

The overcoat of the Fourth Hokage has never felt so heavy. Minato feels his shoulders droop under the weight of it, lower and lower until, finally, he puts his face into his hands.

It is a sign of the weakness he has never been able to show to anybody.

* * *

**A/N: I considered titling this one-shot, but I decided against it.**

**I'd say this takes place right before the events of chapter 23. I suspect Jiraiya had probably looked in on the House and decided enough was enough, both because he cares about Minato's family life and because he was legitimately concerned that dysfunction in the Hokage's seat would lead to dysfunction in the village. He's actually rather wise, isn't he?**


	6. Kakashi: The World is Changing

**Published: 7/22/2015**

**Edited: 8/2/2015 for a very embarrassing word-switched typo. thanks to the reviewer who pointed it out.**

* * *

**Kakashi: The World is Changing**

Kakashi is used to going far from home on his own. He is used to taking missions in foreign lands, away from the support of the village, and he is used to doing it on his own. A-rank at the least is his usual fare and everyone knows it. So when Minato sends Suzu to him with a glorified C-rank, its only pretense of danger its proximity to Earth Country, he knows right away he is not taking a mission so much as he is babysitting.

Kakashi is not overly irritated, though. Minato-sensei, after all, is very busy, and the idea that he could teach Team 7's little chuunin the ins and outs of commanding is laughable. It is an involved process to take an inexperienced unit used only to obeying orders and teach her how to wield authority. Someone has to do it in his stead. What is pleasing is that Minato has chosen Kakashi. Kakashi is not particularly inclined to teaching, but his sensei entrusting him with this major task makes him willing. The mission itself is mostly inconsequential—in the very unlikely event of a failure, there will not be political or financial fallout—but Suzu's tuition is a different matter. The fact that Minato is willing to entrust his beloved little sister to Kakashi's hands speaks volumes of his trust in him. After all, Kakashi knows how he dotes on her, so it is not a decision he would have made lightly.

And, he reflects, he is not totally opposed to spending time with Suzu. With Obito gone, Rin suspended on the verge of death, and Sensei otherwise occupied with his new duties, things have been a bit… lonely, he supposes, as of late. It is refreshing to have a companion to spend time with and, having come to an accord with her, there is an ease in their interaction that had once been absent. She will be appreciable company. After all, the alternative to taking solo missions is to find a partner, and most of the people who are familiar enough with him to operate on a team are either already spoken for, blatant fangirls, or _Gai_.

So when they depart the village, Kakashi is ready for a nice, low-key month. With circumstances like these, what else could it be? They would go up to the border, Suzu would try her hand at running the investigation, he would clean up any loose ends, and then they'd finish the mission and return home.

What a laugh. He should have known better than to let his guard down like that. He pays for his laxity.

This incident at the mines shatters Kakashi's naive expectations with the force of a thousand sledgehammers. His lapse in emotional control is not even the worst part of it—nearly killing the _beloved little sister _he has supposedly been guiding is. The fact that she goes on to completely rip command from his hands and use it pound the Akiyama brothers into submission only makes it worse; the walk back to the village is one of complete and utter shame. What is the point of him, then, if this is all he will do? She seems perfectly capable of taking charge without any help at all.

Of course, that is before she starts _crying_.

Oh, by the Will of Fire, Kakashi thinks as the piteous girl weeps into her hands across the table from him. She had not been ready for that. He hasn't _nearly_ prepped her enough to deal with enemy ninja, let alone a rogue superior. To think that he had not only thrust her into situation like that, but also _added _to it… Kakashi need not be reminded she is mere months out of a psych ward. What will Sensei say when he hears he has allowed this trauma to occur so soon after such mental distress? And to think he had been so happy to have Minato put Suzu in his care.

He holds up his right hand, the hand that has always held the Chidori. He had been so proud to have invented that technique. It requires the finest skill in nature and form manipulation, intense physical fitness, and perfect chakra control. It is a fast jutsu. It is _powerful_. And yet…

"Kakashi," Suzu sighs after he bitterly says aloud his thoughts on the cursed jutsu called Chidori. Her voice croaks and wavers, but at least she is no longer crying. "It's not your fault. Those were all accidents. Maybe you were reckless the first time, but you couldn't have helped those last two. Rin and I both intentionally got in your way. And besides, I'm not even hurt—"

Another flare of temper shoots through him. Not even _hurt_? Does she not realize what too much mental stress can _do _to her right now? Kakashi has seen ninjas break and he _does not want _to see that happen to her, especially on his watch. Has she no regard? For that matter, what business does she have jumping in front of enemy ninjas, ready to sacrifice her life? During the war, such behavior had been treason.

For the second time that day, Kakashi lets his anger get the best of him. Before he even realizes what he is doing, he is slamming his hand down on the table and yelling at the top of his lungs, shoulders rising with fury. Shocked, for a moment all Suzu does is stare; then she cringes and tries to wave a dismissive hand, succeeding only in angering Kakashi further. When he slams his second hand down, she shrinks further, wide-eyed. Kakashi is not surprised; beneath her bluster, Suzu has always been easily cowed by loud displays of violence.

But then something unexpected happens. Suzu surprises him again when she gathers herself, steps forward, slams her own on hand on the table, and yells right back. He is blindsided by the words that come from her mouth.

_Every mission in a post-war climate has the potential to be difficult. It all depends on you as a person. _Sensei's words, said to Suzu and parroted to Kakashi right before they had left the village. She had only shrugged and said "I dunno," at the time, and now Kakashi knows why.

Those words had not been said for her; they had been said for _him_.

War is the only life he has ever known. Sensei had often sighed and said he wished Kakashi had had a more regular genin life, the kind where he wouldn't have been expected to kill fresh out of the Academy, but until now Kakashi has never minded. Killing enemy ninja, in his opinion, had never been a big deal. People did it all the time. What was there to be bothered about? They were hardly people at all.

But that, Kakashi has now learned, is wrong. And the girl that _he_ is supposed to be instructing has been the one to teach it to him.

Kakashi is a jounin and a prodigy, but he knows that this will not be the last time he will have to learn the hard lessons. The world is changing, whether he likes it or not, and with a cold dread he realizes he must keep up or be left behind.

* * *

**A/N: Look what I found while rifling my Sidestories dump document! A one-shot in Kakashi's POV from the Sakuya arc. I didn't think it was too terrible upon rereading it, so I polished the ends a bit and decided it was good enough to share.**


	7. Suzu: Musical Morons

**Published: 8/7/2015**

* * *

**Suzu: Musical Morons**

"Love is an open door!" Tsubasa sang, throwing open the front door. He was slightly off-key, but he had excellent vibrato.

"Love is an open _door_!" I immediately echoed, throwing up my hands.

"Do—_oo_—oor!"

Behind me, Uncle Souhei smacked a hand against his forehead.

* * *

**A/N: Total length is less than 50 words. The phrase "love is an open door" is 22.7% of the text. The word "door" appears 4 times.**

**Yes, these two flirt shamelessly. Don't be deceived; even if Tsubasa starts it, Suzu has a hell of a lot of fun throwing it back. In fact, half of the time I don't think they're even being serious. They just want to be ridiculous together.**

**Sorry, this is what happens when I stay up until one and watch viral videos of people lip-syncing in the car…**


	8. Minato: Unimportant

**Published: 8/12/2015**

* * *

**Minato: Unimportant**

Who is he?

After Kushina has come home, after work is done, after sitting together eating dinner and playing with Naruto, it is the only question left at the end of the day. He had looked up the boy immediately, of course—Tsubasa Yoshizawa, genin, one of the favorites for chuunin promotion at the upcoming exam festival in Getsugakure—but it had told him exactly nothing about just what this Tsubasa is to Suzu.

Kushina had been a little more helpful in uncovering the boy's identity. According to her, he is a good friend of Suzu's, very cheerful, and close enough to her to have traded several letters with her over the past two months. And, his wife had added with a happily little giggle, he is Suzu's number-one suitor.

Minato had nearly had a heart attack. Tsubasa flirts with her. Suzu is considering taking him as a boyfriend. _Souhei _had given a seal of approval to the whole affair. Frankly, everything about it has him bursting into cold sweat_. _An urgent, terrifying kind of sweat, like when Obito had nearly killed her, only not as bad yet also somehow _worse _at the same time. It is just—a _boyfriend_? Little baby Suzu? _His _baby sister Suzu? She's only thirteen!

Or perhaps it is something even more heart-stopping. Minato had started meeting with Kushina at that age, and now he is _married _to her. Is it possible—?

_No, no, no, _his brain chants, and Minato promptly shuts down the terrifying thought, shunting it out of his head. He is overreacting. Nothing has even happened yet. They're not even actually dating. _It is fine_.

And yet…

This is the first he has ever heard of Tsubasa, but things have already progressed this far. He knows he is in no position to expect that Suzu confide the happenings of her personal life to him, but somehow it still _stings_. How had he been the only one not to know of this huge development? It is almost like everything has already been decided and that he's been invited to the party completely after the fact.

"Why didn't she _tell me_?" he asks the kitchen table, where he is sitting alone in the dark with a cold cup of tea. His face is crushed against the smooth wood surface, and he cannot bring himself to lift it, because even though he's asked the question he knows the answer.

She hadn't even glanced back at him before she'd vanished off into the village, gone off somewhere with Tsubasa Yoshizawa. Once upon a time, Suzu had told him everything, but that was then and this is now and only an idiot wouldn't know the answer.

She hadn't told him because she has decided that _he no longer matters._

**A/N: Minato escalates things quickly, doesn't he? He also knows he's being irrational and that this was a completely logical progression of events, but he's freaking out anyway. That's just how he is, I suppose.**

**I probably ought to dedicate this sidestory to **NinjaDemonAngel**, who was the first person to PM me with the premise. Thanks for reading and reviewing, Angel!**

**Also crediting Silver Queen for the concept of an exam festival. Sorry it seems like I keep borrowing stuff from DOS, but I can't help it. She just makes so much ****_sense _that**** bits of her story are in my headcanon before I've even realized it's happened.**


	9. Obito: Hell is a Door

**Published: 10/11/2015**

* * *

**Obito: Hell is a Door**

Obito takes a deep breath. He molds his energies in his stomach and is pleased to see it does not dissipate. Triumphantly, he guides the chakra up his arm, channels it into his fist, and lets it fly at the wall of his cell.

Then it hisses right out of him.

"_Shit!_" His knuckles smash into the stone unprotected. The flesh over his fingers tears and scrapes back; the bones crunch together with painful, horrifying loudness. Obito yanks his hand back and swears profusely.

He pants disbelievingly as he holds his bleeding hand to his chest, blinking away the bright flashes of pain dancing across his vision. He had been sure that he'd found a circumvent for the chakra suppressor that time… but most evidently he had _not_.

And then he hears the door creak open.

_Great_. A ferocious scowl immediately takes over his face as he hears the loathsome tap-tap-tap of sandals soles against hard concrete. It is their courtesy to him, he knows, the way they make their steps so loud and deliberate, but he does not appreciate their goodwill.

"Get out of here," he snarls at the wall when the footsteps come to a stop behind him, still clutching his hand. He refuses to turn and look the fake Rin in the face. He will not be swayed by this illusion Konoha has crafted for him. He will never spit on her memory like that again.

"Are you alright?" not-Rin's voice immediately queries. The sound is so familiar, so warm, so _concerned_—

"What business of it is yours?" he snaps, deigning now to throw a wicked glare over his shoulder. He catches a glimpse of Kakashi's masked face and the imposter's worried expression, but he quickly looks away again before eye contact can be made. It is a _trick_. They had fooled him before, but not this time.

He ignores the aching in his heart. It's been months. Maybe even a year. He's lasted this long against her—he won't give in now.

Resolving to ignore her like he always does—ignore both of them—he instead paces away and examines his hand grimly. The bones are broken, of that there is no doubt; he had held nothing back. Obito sighs at his miscalculation. He should have used his other hand—that would have repaired itself. Now he needs to find a way to set this and make sure it heals properly…

"Rin?"

Kakashi's voice, low and startled, suddenly cuts through the frigid silence. The sound of metal creaking and then sliding to the side meets Obito's ears. Shocked, he whirls around.

For a moment, he is so flabbergasted by the fact that the _cell door is open _that he does not realize the imposter girl is marching forward determinedly. Kakashi rushes to cover the opening, single eye wide.

"Rin, what are you doing?" he demands, though he keeps his voice pitched at an urgent whisper. "The guards won't let us come back if they catch you in there!"

"He's hurt," Rin—no, no, _not_ _Rin_—replies, and Obito finds his injured arm suddenly seized in a grip that is simultaneously gentle and made of steel. "...You've broken it."

"What are you—" Obito immediately tries to draw back, but her strength is almost supernatural. "Let _go_—"

Warm green chakra suddenly sinks into his skin, soothing the pain and mending the tears in his flesh. Against his will, a sigh of utter relief escapes Obito's lips.

"I can't tell you not to act tough anymore," she murmurs, brows knitting just slightly as she weaves the bones his hand back together. "You are tough now. I'm sure you'd be able to take care of yourself if it came down to it… you don't need me." Her voice cracks a bit. "But just remember I'm watching you anyway, okay? Even… even if you don't want me to."

Obito refuses to look her in the face.

* * *

The prisoner status report for that day noted an unexplained crying fit in the night.

* * *

**Alternate title: Locked From Inside.**

**Takes place a little more than a year before the start of the Fire Country Court arc. No, Suzu does not know that this happened. She's more out of the loop than she thinks.**

**Dedicated to **Pretend Fiction**, who wrote the very long, very thoughtful, and extremely helpful review from which the idea of Obito and an "imposter" came.**


	10. Kyouya: Sweet Deepener

**Published: 10/11/2015**

* * *

**Kyouya: Sweet Deepener**

They are standing at the gate once again. Tsubasa has his gear on his back, and he wears his usual wide grin. Kyouya grins back, but it fades after a moment.

"Be careful," he murmurs after a moment of meaningful silence. Tsubasa's grin shifts into something softer, something more mellow and more retrospective. Kyouya finds himself mirroring him, and they both take a minute to show each other relieved faces, silently confiding memories of shorter, more acrimonious partings.

Kyouya has always known Tsubasa was like him. The unwanted have a look about them that is telling to their fellows. A bastard child and a rejected lover… from the very first moment Souhei had appeared with the nine-year-old boy he'd pulled from the Naka River, he had known.

"Always," Tsubasa softly replies. "Wait for me, alright?"

"I will," Kyouya promises solemnly.

And like he has so many times before, Tsubasa turns and leaves, shutting the wooden gates behind him. Kyouya heaves a sigh and puts his hands in his sleeves as he returns to the house, walking the long, winding pathway back. Every step on this little paved road is its own expansive journey…

Kyouya works as he usually does, reading and writing letters, managing finances and merchandise. He used to be able to do this from noon till night, but lately his legs cramp up and fall asleep more quickly than they used to. Sighing, he sets his brush down and props his head up with his hand, shifting out of the punishing seat of seiza and crossing his legs instead.

Today, it seems, there is no concentration to be found. He is too fidgety and too distracted. Is it because Tsubasa is gone on a mission, perhaps? Or maybe he's just feeling his age more acutely today. Not his physical age, because fifty isn't so wearying, but his _real _one.

Well, he decides, he's not getting any more work done today. He might as well go take a walk. It is already early evening, but it would be a shame to waste was what left of the day.

And yet, when he leaves the estate and goes walking in the village, he finds himself standing at the edge of the village lands. His destination is the large bridge that crosses Konoha's lifeblood: the River of Southern Joy. A dark, mirthless smile finds its way onto his face.

The story went that Tsubasa had been walking here with his father and his brother when he'd slipped and fallen into the ravine. And while everyone else who knows the tale takes this as the truth, Kyouya does not. One does not just simply slip and fall into this river. The bridge is sturdy and has high railings, and the path winds well away from the cliff's edge. Tsubasa had not ended up in the Naka River on accident, that is certain—either he'd been pushed, or he'd gone in of his own accord.

Tsubasa has never told him so, but he's never denied it, either.

He still remembers how Souhei had shown up in front of him, carrying that sopping wet child on his back. Both of them had been soaked through at that point, and though the hospital would have been closer, the boy had been confusedly mumbling in English and Souhei hadn't wanted people to be asking him dangerous questions. So they'd taken him inside; Souhei had healed the bleeding gash on the back of his head, checked his back and spine, and made sure that everything was alright. He had been lucky to fall at the lowest part of the ravine, or the whole affair surely would have ended in death.

Kyouya snorts and turns away. Noriko had backstabbed him, but he hasn't had it nearly as bad the the black sheep of the Yoshizawa. Any number of wealthy men can tell stories of being used for their money and then being thrown aside when things become too troublesome. Far fewer can say their family members have tried to murder them because of a mother who had cheated. Frankly, when Tsubasa had shown up on his doorstep a year after that first meeting, dragging a single suitcase behind him, he hadn't even questioned him. Maybe they'd tried to kill him again, or maybe he just couldn't standing living with them any longer—Kyouya doesn't know the whole of his circumstances. He already knows enough.

He sighs and looks up at the trees around him. The river, despite everything that has happened upon it, still sings beautifully. It always does, oblivious of everything, and it makes Kyouya's heart want both to lighten and to sink.

As he stands there, watching the sun fall into the horizon, he contenplates an unlikely friend who had come to him in even unlikelier circumstances.

Tsubasa, he finds himself thinking, cannot return from his mission soon enough.

* * *

**A/N: Takes place a few days before Suzu visits Kyouya in chapter 32. Title comes from Matsuo Basho's haiku: **_**Twilight whippoorwill . . ./whistle on, sweet deepener/Of dark loneliness. **_

**Anyway, there it is—explanation for both Tsubasa's entry into the group of Earthlings and the reason why he lives with Kyouya. And for why Kyouya never got married. I think he really regrets that he let getting burned keep him from trying to find love with someone else, though. **


End file.
